The Cries of Our Hearts
by nekocandy4life
Summary: The twins listened with their whole hearts, wondering if the prayers they said for years were finally being answered. That maybe God was leaning down to them whenever they prayed, listening attentively to their cries for someone to love them...for Him to show them that He loves them and had never forgotten about them. (Not a romance story)


The Cries Of Our Heart.

Chapter one: It started over brunch.

Music filled the air of the seemly calm café. The café was small, hidden between two buildings that were thrice its size. It didn't faze the beauty of this hidden gem. If anything, the contrast made the tiny building stand out as a landmark. Every local knew of this place and even if there were some that did not know of it were bound to stumble upon it from time to time. The tourists weren't so lucky. Usually, tourists would look at this gem and assume the worst:

That competition was tough for such a small building.  
The inside must be run down and the service awful.  
Or perhaps that it was just another "British" place where the food wouldn't be as good.

All these rumors robbed tourists of an experience that may have been unforgettable, opting instead to venture for something glamorous looking and money hungry. This café was a good place. A place of honesty and family oriented, never touching on the subject of money – sometimes even letting their guest eat free if they lacked money. It was a trusted place that people put their own necks out to ensure they remained on this block.

Arthur Kirkland adored this place for their generosity and kindness. Those two things just weren't common these days or genuine. The fall of humanity he reasoned to himself as he watched the outside world from inside this warmth-filled place. It was winter in his land, snow covering the ground, and people walked hurriedly to wherever they belonged at this moment. He watched these "well-rounded" lads and ladies buzz like bees, ignoring their fellow human beings that weren't fortunate to have a warm place to go to.

Arthur's hand twitched, thinking that throughout all these years he fought for his people, problems with poverty still existed. He felt his headache come back recalling the meeting he had with his associates in the wee early morning. He had wanted to talk about the issue dealing with poverty and the homeless – he wanted some discussion about how best to help them. The associates on the other hand…as always…didn't share his desires.

They preferred the usual conversation that involved their greatness or – his eyebrow twitched – making a huge "superhero" that would solve their problems for them. Sighing in dismay, the British was too old for this routine. Every meeting since the United Nations started, it's all been the same. The nations would gather together in one location to discuss their problems and try to figure out some solutions. It seemed well…if you weren't a country having to sit in the meetings, trying to bring it back into order only to have a riot start over the pettiest of things.

'Then maybe it would be enjoyable.' England scoffed to himself, wondering why he still put up with the countries. If only he was normal…like the people that passed by or the ones surrounding him in the café. It would be sweet, wouldn't it? To wake up, have a job of his choice and just live the days being able to grow old…not having to watch the world around him change or see people age and die before him. It would be nice…a dream perhaps.

This led to his appreciation for this cafe; it was homey here and everybody was happily together in harmony despite each being complete strangers. Arthur also liked that the rest of the world believed the rumors about this place because they didn't dare set a foot here. They opted to run to their own little districts where their own cultures thrived.

That was fine with the British man.  
He wouldn't be bothered here.  
Which made this his safe haven.

Sipping on the hot chocolate he ordered, England basked in the warmth sliding down his throat. It unthawed his insides and the chocolate lifted his mood a little bit. The chefs here were good at their job. If England had the choice to eat at the fanciest of restaurants with world-famous chefs altogether or stay and eat here – he would choose this place hands down. The workers here specialized in international cuisine, something that was unusual for a café, and their baked sweets were nothing to look down upon either.

As the British continued sipping his treat, the door behind him opened up. A gush of wind hit his back but it didn't bother him; his body was used to worse weather. Despite wearing a knitted sweater, the gush of winter air felt like a spring breeze on his back. His eyes glanced at the newcomers, trying not to be impolite with his blunt curiosity. Not many people appreciated that kind of thing or so he believed.

The warmth was welcomed as the newcomers stepped into the building. They didn't need to look around the café because they knew this place by heart. Running up to the counter, they did their best not to bump into anybody. No one paid them any mind and that was fine with them. Being nonexistence to the world had its perks, it kept them safe and free from separation. They knew what this world was like and what people might try to do if they realized the truth about them. It was better to be ignored even if it hurt them on the inside.

But they weren't entirely invisible, at least, not to one country who followed their steps. Unaware of the green eyes observing their daily ritual, two young boys greeted the smiling cashier behind the counter.

"Missy!" Said female was caught in a conversation with a tall, handsome looking man. Well – the young man was the one doing all the talking while Missy smiled wearily, trying not to be rude to the self-centered man before her. The man was recounting a story of when he saved a little bird that fell out of a tree (with a little exaggeration to the story). The hot cocoa shook in his glass as he laughed bravely, feeling as if the cashier would admire him more for his heroism. He didn't realize that Missy wasn't even amused in the least by him or his tall tales. She didn't fancy being hit on, especially when the men that desired her were puffed up with pride and attracted only to her body.

At the sound of her two favorite customers, Missy excused herself from her admirer and smiled genuinely at the two little ones. "Hey, you two!" They were so precious she thought, always coming here with the happiest smiles despite their circumstances. "What will it be this time?" She smirked at them, already knowing their orders by heart.

The two boys bounced on the toes as they shouted their orders. They were twins by the looks of it but with slight differences.

"Cheeseburger!" squealed the tan one. He was much more hyper than his twin and his burgundy eyes widened in joy. Is scruffy brown hair bobbed with the movement of his jumps, bumping the man beside him but the young child paid no attention. The boy was drooling just thinking about the meaty, juicy, delicious burger covered in cheese and it even came with a bonus: Fries!

"Pancakes!" The other boy shouted bouncing less hyper than his twin. His hair was a sandy blond and his eyes appeared to be a unique violet color. It was sort of blue but a pastel blue that gave it that violet color. The boy was calmer than his twin but his insides felt the same way as his companion. The kid was looking forward to biting into those fluffy hotcakes drowned in maple syrup.

Missy was right; the kids came here every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and asked for the same thing. This day, however, they came a little late – around brunch time. "I'm on it!" Winking at the two cuties, Missy walked into the kitchen to give the chefs the order and let them know who they were for. Knowing her staff, they would pack bags of their fresh made goods before letting them leave.

England watched the boys as they bounced in joy. He glanced at them when they first came in but after that one glance…he just remained staring. They were quite young; being 8 or maybe 9 years old. Both of them seemed healthy, well fed, but those clothes they wore said otherwise. Those jackets may have been dark colors but Arthur could tell that they were filthy and worn. Their shoes had tiny holes in them and when they passed by, their smells weren't pleasant.

Seeing them frustrated him.

It wasn't their faults that he was mad, he knew that, but it brought him back to the problem in his land that he wanted to solve. It reminded him –like many others- that he was an utter failure. No matter how much he tried…people were still suffering and they were children too. Mere children, living out on the streets, wanting to avoid the orphanage because the orphanage would be worse.

Many of his colleagues said that he didn't have a heart. That Arthur's heart was made of ice but that wasn't so. Contrary to the weather he always has, Britain did have a heart and it clung to others far too easily. The country watched as the tan kid began jumping higher; it crossed Britain's mind to warn the kid of his closeness to the man beside him but it was too late.

The child jumped too high, hitting the man's arm and causing the hot chocolate the man was holding to fall onto his shirt. Some of the liquid fell on the tan kid but the man didn't care as he yelled in disdain. The drink was not as hot as it was when the man first brought it but he made a show of it hurting. Indignantly he grabbed the little boy and shouted, "Look at what you did! I demand repayment!"

The man's red face and menacing stance frightened the kids. Frozen in the fear, the one held could only wince as the grip on his arm tightened. The man ranted about the cost of his shirt and the injury he received from the cocoa, he threatened to take the kids down to the police station.

All this yelling was making England's head hurt. Having enough of the man's obvious exaggeration, England got up from his cozy spot to put a stop to the nonsense that was disrupting the café. Not only that but it boiled his blood to see the wince on the kid's face. "Sir." That one word may not have been as loud as the man's screams but England's grip on the man's wrist sure was.

Arthur may have been shorter than the man but as a country, he was stronger than regular humans. Gasping at the hold of the short person, the man released the kid. Seeing the kid safe, the 23-year-old stepped in between them. Giving the man an icy look, Arthur let go of the wrist. "Sir, there was no need to be harsh to a couple of kids. It was an accident."

"What deal is it with you?" Sputtered the man, afraid of the unusual strength Arthur had.

Arthur did not change his stare but on the inside, he was worried about what to say. He had no ties to these kids so this was none of his business. Maybe he was wrong to step into this situation. Feeling little hands on his back, Arthur glanced at the kids; both of them watched anxiously, wondering if they were going to end up in jail for their slip up? The fear in their eyes felt like spikes in England's body.

They were just children…  
Defenseless and alone.

"They're my nephews." It slipped out as if his mouth had a mind of its own. Mentally scolding himself for his own slip-up, England decided to just go with the lie.

"Really?" The man scoffed skeptically, eyeing the boys before looking back at the country. "They look more like foreigners to me, chap."

"So you're saying that it's a crime for infertile mothers to adopt children from overseas?" England feigned being offended by the man's words. "My sister was too sick to carry children sir so she adopted these two darlings from across the pond. Does that make them criminals then that you have to threaten to drag them to the yard?" At his words, people began whispering among themselves, especially mothers who did adopt children.

The whispers made the man sweat. "Now I didn't say that…"

"Oh, but you did when you insulted my nephews like that, making them feel less like citizens and more like terrorists." Some people in the crowd agreed. Seeing the tall man metaphorically shrink, England decided to back off. "Here," Taking out his wallet, England took out some money. "You wanted repayment, here it is. This is for your clothes, your drink, and whatever else you buy in this lovely cafe. Take it." England placed the money on the counter and turned towards the kids.

Missy came back with the children orders ready to go and the bag of goods only to stop at the scene that greeted her. England noticed the young lady and greeted her. "There was an accident Ma'am." He said pointing to the broken glass on the floor. "I will repay for any damage." He placed down money before taking the two meals away. Handing the plates and bag to the young boys, England turned to go back to his table. "Come along nephews." He called out to them.

Missy didn't know what to think as she watched the two kids follow the man. The kids never liked being close with anyone unless that person was her. Seeing the money and the broken glass, she wondered what had happened while she was in the kitchen.


End file.
